The One We Lost
by BellatrixLestrangey
Summary: During one of their battles one of the Trix is left without her life.


A considerable amount of time had passed since the sisters had shed tears of any kind-much less ones of complete despair and helplessness, but it had also been a long time since any of them had lost someone so dear. Fate was a cruel bitch, the irony of the cold, rainy and dark weather demonstrated exactly such. She'd be buried in her favorite weather. Was that fate honoring her passing or mocking it? The sisters weren't sure. Though they very much wanted to do so, neither one was able to bring themselves to vocalize any final words before the crowd. But that was okay right? Because no words could cover such memories left behind by the woman in this universe. They say the dead leave their stories behind, and what a legacy she left. Good or bad, not one person would forget her.

Though she was never really one for gentle touches or warm embraces, the woman laying in the coffin (wearing a velvet dress in the deepest shades of purple, blue, magenta, and black-all their favorite colors) did have her moments. And those moments of short-lived affection were cherished, kept in secret, and playing in the minds of the remaining two sisters. Witches weren't known for being good at much, but they sure as hell knew how to honor and respect their dead. And these two witches made sure to dress their departed sister in only the finest dress (one she wanted in her time on Earth but never had the money to buy) and lay her gracefully in the most intricately designed coffin (hands folded over her stomach) depicting dark clouds and rain, icicles etched along the top and encrusted with gems of dark hues. The sisters also took special care in fixing her makeup-their trademark cat eyes and a fair amount of black eye shadow with a slight shimmer-they double checked to make sure they didn't over do it. They didn't want the world to remember the woman in the marred, ugly stated she died in. They wanted the world to remember her at her most beautiful. She would have wanted that.

To think, just two days prior the woman was full of both life and a certain dark energy. And now...  
Now she was just gone. Simply gone, reduced to a sinister life-like doll-lying silently in an everlasting sleep. How her sisters prayed that she'd sit up, laugh mischievously and say something like "relax, I was just fucking with you losers!" And for a good while both were sure it'd happen, because she couldn't possibly be dead. But the more hours spent in the funeral home the less room there was for denial. And now, as they readied to lower her coffin that hope was stamped out like the last ember in a campfire. "She shouldn't be there." One of the sisters choked out, only to have the elder of the two hug her close. "She was supposed to be taking over Magix with us..."

The elder of the two sisters had never quite seen her sister younger sister in so much distress in all her years and she had no clue what to do. It didn't help that she herself was feeling everything the other embodied. They never felt quite so alone. "Please don't leave us." She whispered softly to the woman in the coffin. "Please come back, we need you."

She was so young. She still had much to accomplish; actually graduating, finding a job (if she even desired one), and maybe even marriage. But none of that mattered, those chances had gone by and she'd never get the opportunity to take them. The sisters knew they'd part ways eventually, that was part of life-but not like this, and oh God, not so soon. It all happened in a flash, one minute she was there, the next she was face up on the ground, face still smoking. Stella promised that she had not meant for it to be that hard of a hit, apologizing over and over again as Layla tried to sooth the burns and Bloom tried to revive the sister's heart. The only thing keeping the other two from lashing out were the tears the sprung even to their enemies' eyes. "I'm so sorry." Stella squeaked.  
And that was just it, their sister was a lost cause...wasn't even give the time to give any last words. Unless "is that the best you got pixie!? Go ahead, hit me with everything you got!" counted.

More than anything else though, it hurt the two remaining sisters the most that with the exception of themselves and the Winx girls, no one else seemed to care. She was not the kindest in life, but shouldn't she still be cared for in death? The sisters had never felt lost, what was a trio without the 3rd.

The elder of the remaining two bought herself to the woman in the coffin and gently stroked her cheek. So cold, so leathery, defiantly not how skin should feel. The younger of the remaining two lifted the lifeless body into a hug, she was so limp-her head flopped back upon the lack of support. That put a knife through the living sister's chest, she let out a muffled sob. Her sister had the task of repositioning the body. "Are you ready to have her burried?" The priest asked. The elder of the two took one final look into the coffin; Icy lie there much paler, much colder than ever.

"Yes."


End file.
